


A Way To Reappear

by owlmug



Series: I Took Both Roads [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game), Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Sean Diaz discovering that he is bisexual as FUCK, and I even play around with the idea of a Finn/Sean/Cassidy OT3, but Sean/Finn is endgame, there are Cassidy/Sean overtones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmug/pseuds/owlmug
Summary: Sean is captivated by a girl with purple hair, singing outside his school. She introduces him to her foster brother, and in the quiet safety of Cassidy's guitar strings and Finn's cigarette smoke, Sean learns a great deal about himself.[High School AU]





	A Way To Reappear

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Life Is Strange 2 High School AU where Finn and Cassidy live in Seattle.
> 
> Finn's high school look is inspired by this piece of fanart by the wonderfully talented Bloodwrit! For this particular fanfic, I felt like the version of Finn with blue hair would work really well, and I took great joy in borrowing it. Thank you for being amazing, Bloodwrit! (If you ever this message, omg.)  
> https://bloodwrit.tumblr.com/post/185193875840/some-alternate-hair-cuts-for-finn-that-i-did-with

_And so the morning came_  
_And swept the night away_  
_As I was looking for a way to disappear_  
_Amongst the quiet things_  
_And all these empty streets_  
_I found a way, I found a way to reappear_

 

*

 

The minute he’s done with track practice, Sean pulls out his phone. There’s a message from Dad, sent more than an hour ago—around the time Dad usually picks up Daniel from school.

_Working late. Can you pick up your brother?_

Can you. Like Sean has a fucking choice. He shoots back a quick, _Will do_ with no punctuation or emoji; hopefully that will communicate just how unfair and uncool it is that his afternoon plans are now blown to hell. Picking up Daniel doesn’t just mean walking him home from school; it means babysitting him after, and helping him with his homework, which means Sean’s own homework won’t get done until late, which means no Skype or video games until tomorrow.

Dad replies immediately. _Bringing home pizza!_ he says, which helps lessen the sting, but still, Sean would rather be the guy picking up dinner than one looking after Daniel.

Sean’s school is almost empty, in that past-four o’clock kind of way. Not completely dead, but still unusually quiet, with the sun suspended just shy of setting. Sean shoots a text to Lyla, both canceling their plans and complaining about how he doesn’t even get paid to babysit.

_Isn’t this technically child labor?!_ he says.

_You get paid in pizza!_ Lyla replies. _And room and board_.

_Ha fucking ha_ . _Dad doesn’t even thank me anymore_.

_He’s just busy, Sean. You know he loves you!_

Sean makes a face at his screen. He’s about to stuff the entire conversation into his pocket when he rounds into the student parking lot and hears it.

Music. Guitar strings, low and sweet. A voice, lower and sweeter still. Both belong to a girl with purple hair, done into braids run through with ribbons. Half of her head is shaved, with the braids swept to one side, deliberately messy and unfathomably cool.

Sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk, she sings about quiet places and empty streets; things that vanish with the waning light of day. Sean is… well, he doesn’t know what he is. Spellbound, maybe, though that seems too sinister a word for how delicately the song captures him, like a butterfly held in open hands. He stands and listens, his phone forgotten, his breath slow and calm.

He’s not sure when his eyes close. Long before the song ends, certainly. He just lets to music wash over him until the very last notes fade away. He can actually hear the vibration of the guitar strings.

“You gotta crush on me or somethin’?”

Those words are the gentle shake that bring Sean back into himself, like when fell asleep in the car as a little kid. Dad’s hands would rock his shoulder, and Sean would have to blink several times to understand where he was and how he got there.

“What?” he says dumbly. “Oh—no—I just, your song…”

The girl laughs. “Relax. I was only teasin’ ya.”

What is that accent? Southern? Maybe she’s new here. Wait—what did she say? Sean can’t remember. But she’s clearly waiting for him to reply, so Sean rushes to say… literally anything.

“Yeah. I, uh… yeah. Sorry.”

She leans forward, elbows propped on her guitar. “For what?”

“Huh?”

“You’re ‘sorry’ for what?”

“For—you know—” Being a total creeper? “—listening.”

The girl smiles, revealing a slight gap between her front teeth. That smile somehow puts Sean at ease and gives him twelve new types of anxiety. “It’s cool that you listened, dude! Most people don’t even care. Or throw things. You didn’t chuck garbage at me, so, we’re cool.”

“Oh… good,” Sean says, rubbing at the back of his neck. Isn’t there something he should be doing? Somewhere he’s supposed to be?

“So…” The girl shifts again. Purple braids slide along her shoulder. “You like music?”

“Y-yeah. I do. A lot, actually.”

“Band geek? Choir?”

A laugh that’s really just a puff of air escapes Sean. “Nah. I’m fucking tone deaf.” He almost tells her about how he sings along to his favorite songs, but reconsiders it. “I went to the Misty Mice concert on Saturday, though.”

“No way! I’m so stupid jealous. I talked all month ‘bout goin’, but my ride punked out on me.”

“Bummer.”

“Naw—we just hammered instead. Cheaper, ya’know?”

“Yeah,” Sean says, shrugging like he gets it. Like he gets wasted all the time, and not just once at Eric’s stupid end-of-the-year party.

They talk like that for a while, feeling out their common ground. There isn’t much. She’s a Senior. He’s a Junior. He runs track and does art and she—actual fucking quote— _holds on for dear life_. It’s obvious that they exist within completely different worlds. Sean hopes he doesn’t sound like a total fucking loser.

A car rattles into the parking lot; a rusted red junker with beer cans and empty pizza boxes strewn across the back seat. It drives right up to the sidewalk and actually clips it, the entire passenger’s side balanced on the curb. Sean stumbles backward, but the girl remains still, as if this happens all the time.

“You’re late, asshole!” she says in a tone completely void of malice. She stands up, shifting her guitar around her shoulders. She wears it the same way Sean wears his backpack, except his cargo is filled with homework and hers is filled with soft notes and free time.

The driver crawls half-way out of his window, actually sitting on the edge of it and leaning both elbows on the roof of his car. Like the girl, half of his head is shaved, the rest of his brown and blue hair swept to the side. He has three triangles tattooed under his left eye and ring in his nose—and yet another tattoo under his lip, a straight line splitting his chin.

“Uh-oh, someone’s mad ‘cause she missed four-twenty,” he says. Different accent. Californian, maybe? So, not the girl’s brother, then. Boyfriend?

“No, someone’s mad ‘cause she’s been sittin’ in the sun for an _hour_.”

“Least you weren’t lonely.” The guy swirls a finger in Sean’s direction and Sean gets a glimpse of multiple rings and even more tattoos. “Who’s your friend?”

Sean waits for her to answer, but she turns to him, staring, waiting. So does the guy. Heat rushes to Sean’s face, realizing that they never exchanged names.

“I’m Sean,” he says. “S-Sean Diaz.”

The guy props his cheek on an open palm. “Oh, he’s _cute_.”

What?

“Well yeah, I have _eyes_ , Finn.”

_What_?

The girl laughs, then captures Sean’s hand in an overly formal handshake, a mockery of adults conducting very serious business. “Pleasure ta meet’cha, Sean Diaz. I’m Cassidy. That’s Finn. You can—and _should_ —ignore him.”

“Don’t be mean,” Finn says sweetly. His eyes stay on Sean for a moment longer, then he looks at Cassidy in a way that suggests a change in topic. “Burgers?”

“Fuck yes, I’m starved,” Cassidy replies, opening the passenger’s door. She waves back at Sean. “Hope I’ll see ya around.”

“Y-Yeah,” Sean says, hoping the same. Finn arches a brow.

“Does your friend wanna come?” he asks, waiting for Cassidy’s shrug before addressing Sean. “Whatdya think, sweetheart? Hungry?”

Sean’s pulse is so fast, he can feel it in his wrists. The thought of crawling into that back seat should disgust him, but right now he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

Until the old pizza boxes remind him of Dad’s text.

“Can’t,” Sean says. “Sorry… I’d love to, but… I gotta go pick up my little brother.”

Finn nods with understanding. “Shame. Next time, maybe?”

“ _Definitely_.”

“It’s a date, sweetie.”

Finn winks, and something unexpected runs up Sean’s spine. He’s still trying to figure out how to respond when Finn slides back through his window. Cassidy, meanwhile, actually leans out of hers to wave as they pull away.

And just like that, Sean is left standing there, in the same place he’s always been, wearing the exact same dorky clothes. Same old backpack. Same shoes and beanie and well-worn hoodie. He’s still Sean—obviously. He never stopped _being_ Sean—there wasn’t a single moment of that entire conversation where he wasn’t painfully aware of his own inescapable Sean-ness.

But at the same time, talking to Finn and Cassidy felt like… living a scene out of someone else’s life. Someone who actually _could_ climb into the back of Finn’s shitty car and drive away without looking back.

A spot of color on the ground. A guitar pick—Cassidy’s, probably. Sean slips it into his pocket. Just… to remember the life he could’ve had. Sean walks to the elementary school with both eyes on his phone, fingers tapping at the screen.

_Do you know a Senior named Cassidy? Purple hair?_

Lyla gets back to him immediately. _Don’t think so. Why?_

_Asking for a friend…_ Sean types, following it up with several blushing emoji, just to make Lyla squeal.

_Deets!_ she demands. Sean can perfectly imagine her eager smile.

_Just met her. No big deal._

There’s a full minute before Lyla replies. _I’ll ask around. Lemme get back to you._

_Be cool about, Lyla. Please?_

_When am I not? ;)_

Sean is grinning when he enters the elementary school playground, but the sight of Daniel, sulking against a tetherball pole, makes his lip curl with annoyance.

Here it fucking comes.

“I’ve been waiting _forever_!” Daniel whines.

“I had track, dude.” Sean grips to loop at the top of Daniel’s backpack and pulls the boy roughly to his feet. Daniel squawks with protest. “Don’t like it, walk home by yourself. You’re fucking old enough.”

“Shut up!” Daniel sneers. “You don’t know! There’s, like—dogs! And bullies!”

“Whatever.” Sean rolls his eyes. Like Daniel’s so fucking scared of strays, trying to pet every dog that he sees.

Home is… okay. Sean doesn’t get very much of his homework done, but Daniel isn’t as much to blame as Sean’s own wandering thoughts. He lays on his bed and stares at the junk around his room. The posters. The trophies. He tries to imagine if Cassidy has any of the same stuff. The skateboard, maybe? She and Finn didn’t exactly have a skate-punk vibe, but if they do, maybe they could… they could…

Sean doesn’t know what they could do. He has no idea how people like Finn and Cassidy fill their time… except by getting hammered, apparently.

Jealousy swells up inside of him. It must be so fucking cool to just… do what you want, when you want to. No homework, no little brother, just a guitar and a rusty old junker.

Dad brings home the pizza he promised. He and Sean and Daniel all eat together on the couch, watching some stupid old Hawt Dog Man cartoon because Daniel whined until he got his way. Then, halfway through his second slice, Sean’s phone lights up on the armrest. Sean dives for it, smearing pizza grease across the screen.

“Oooh, hot date calling?” Dad teases.

“It’s just Lyla,” Sean replies, ears burning.

“Tell her I said hi!” says Daniel. Sean ignores him.

_Lyla The Love Witch comes through!  
I hope you appreciate everything I do for you, Diaz. _

Sean punches out a quick reply. _Well? Spill!_

When a response doesn’t immediately come, he adds: _Come on, I’m begging!_   

_Down, boy! You’ll get your bone!_  
_It wasn’t easy. Your girl doesn’t DO anything._  
_No clubs, no sports, no nothing_

Yeah, that’s not surprising. Cassidy didn’t really seem like the… group activity type. Sean’s heart settles somewhere in his stomach, along with all thought of skateparks and concerts.

_Is there any good news?_ he asks.

_Hells yeah. I told you, The Love Witch always comes through!_

Sean stares at his phone, waiting. Dad shifts beside him, reaching for another slice of pizza. Hawt Dog Man dances to a repetitive tune, and Daniel lets out an obnoxious laugh.

At last, another message appears on the screen.

_She’s failing Spanish!_

 

*

 

“Que esta… señor _?_ ”

“ _Bien ¿y tu? Tengo la púa que perdiste_.”

Cassidy’s mouth twists in mock panic. “Uh… no… comprendo?”

Yeah. That’s the fucking point. Sean isn’t ready to tell Cassidy that he found her guitar pick—at least, not in words she’ll understand. Maybe he will someday, but right now it just seems too… stalker.

He’s glad they’re studying in the library. It feels like neutral territory. Neither one of them outranks the other, not while they’re in a quiet corner, hidden from their classmates by towering bookshelves.

“Studying,” of course, is a very generous term what for they’re doing. After about three minutes of awkward phrases exchanged in Spanish, they resort exclusively to English. They talk about the new Misty Mice album, and which teachers annoy them the most, and what they like to do after school.

Or at least, Sean tries to talk about that. Besides not doing clubs or sports, Cassidy doesn’t watch television (“I hate Hollywood bullshit”) or play video games (“Got more’n ‘nuff noise in my life, thanks”) or skateboard. She’s not stuck up about it, she’s just… aloof. Hard to pin down. Like a tumbleweed.

“So, what do you do? When you’re bored?” Sean asks.

In lieu of an answer, Cassidy rolls up her sleeves, revealing several tattoos.

“Gotta cover ‘em up inside these _hallowed halls of academia_ ,” she snorts. “But… yeah. This is me. My whole life. Everythin’ that matters.”

“Fucking rad…” Sean says. Sunlight pushes through the blinds beside him, casting Cassidy’s arms in lines of yellow light, straight and narrow like prison bars.

“This was my first one,” she says, tapping a cluster of stars. “Did it myself when I was fifteen.”

“Holy shit. I wouldn’t even know _how_ to do that.”

Cassidy grins. “I could give ya one.”

“Ha—yeah. No way. My dad would cut off my fucking arm.”

Sean rolls his eyes, as if Esteban is overbearing and lame, and not the actual coolest dad on the planet. It just… feels good to complain about him, in a way that people understand. A way Sean doesn’t have to feel guilty about, easy and straightforward.

Cassidy likes hearing about his dad, though. And Daniel. Amazingly, she seems just as fascinated by his life as he is by hers.

“I think it’s so cool-” she says, stretching her arms across the table, “that you’re all there for each other. I ain’t got anythin’ like that, ‘cept… maybe one person.”

One person? Finn? The… boyfriend?

“Y-yeah… I can tell that you’re… not from around here.”

Cassidy rests her cheek on her outstretched arms. “What’s that mean?”

“Oh, n-nothing, just…”

“I’m teasin’. It’s the accent, I know. I tried ta change it, but… the new words didn’t stick. Like Spanish, I guess?” She taps her forehead. “Things sound a certain way up here. Hard ta hear it diff’rent.”

“Where are you from? I’ve only ever lived here my whole life.”

“Texas, origin’ly. Came here ‘bout four years ago, after my daddy went ta jail.”

Four years? She’s been here the whole time?

“Crazy we haven’t met before,” Sean says.

“Why would we?” Cassidy grins. “It’s a big school. Not like we got any of the same classes, or hang out with the same people.”

Sean hesitates. He kept hoping Cassidy would mention Finn on her own, but…

“That guy, who picked you up yesterday? Was that…?”

Cassidy laughs again. Sean’s heartbeat pounds in his ears. _Shit_. Why didn’t he just wait for her to bring it up? Why couldn’t he just be chill, play the fucking field—

“That was Finn,” Cassidy says. She sits up. Stretches her arms. The light in her eyes tells Sean that she knows exactly what he’s waiting for, but she’s enjoying letting him dangle.

Finally, she settles her elbows on the table and rests her chin on both fists. “He was my foster brother, ‘til he aged out. He went here too, but didn’t graduate. Quit the same year I moved in. ‘Fore your time.”

Shit, yeah. Sean would’ve been in middle school then, trading Munster Fighter cards on the playground. He would have looked like a little kid next to Finn and Cassidy. Maybe he still does.

“So, uh… how old is he, anyway?”

“Almost twen'y.”

Nineteen, then. A distinction that seems… oddly important to Sean. He’s not sure why.

“And you two aren’t, um…”

Cassidy’s gaze turns distant. “Together? Naw. In another life though…”

Sean waits for her to finish the sentence, but she doesn’t. He’s left wondering what exactly she means.

When Cassidy looks back at him, a smile lights her face. He can see the gap in her teeth again. “I’m goin’ to his place after school, actually. Do you wanna come?”

After school. Sean has track. And plans with Lyla. And the distinct, ever-present possibility that Daniel will need babysitting.

And yet, the word _Yes_ tumbles out of Sean’s mouth.

 

*

 

The final bell goes off like a starting pistol, the kind they fire into the air at track meets. Everyone jumps out of their desks, racing off to their clubs and sports and buses. Sean should be on his way to the locker room, but instead he’s in the student parking lot, sitting by Cassidy as she strums her guitar.

Sean’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Fuck. Is it Dad?

No. It’s just Lyla, texting him from their usual bus.

_Tried saving you a seat. Forgot you had track. See you after?_

Sean considers letting it go. Cassidy hums beside him, searching for just the right notes, and the moment feels so sweet and delicate that Sean’s afraid to move, lest he shatter it.

It’s the sight of Finn’s car, rolling up fast to the sidewalk— _onto_ the sidewalk—that changes Sean’s mind. If he ends up in a ditch, he wants someone to know.

_Raincheck. Hanging out with Cass._

His phone lights up less than a second later. _What the WHAT???_

_I’ll tell you more tonight. Hopefully,_ he replies.

_GET IT DiAZ!_

“Hey. Thanks for showin’ up on time,” Cassidy says, sliding into the passenger’s seat. Sean opens the back door on the same side.

“Uh, thanks for lettin’ me know we was havin’ company?!” Finn replies. He twists around in his seat, tossing aside boxes, cans, crusts, a greasy towel and a faded bra until there’s enough room for Sean. “Sorry ‘bout the mess, sweetie…”

“It’s cool,” Sean says. He’s blushing way more than he should at the sight of a bra. He’s never actually seen one that wasn’t dangling from a plastic hanger at Z-Mart. He tries to be chill—not like Daniel, snickering in the middle of the store—but at the same time, Sean feels like he’s sitting next to a coiled snake.

Finn pulls out of the parking lot without further comment. Sean isn’t sure he would do the same if some random guy crawled into the back of his car, even if Daniel knew him. Just another example of how he and Finn exist in completely different realities.

They don’t go to Finn’s place right away. First, they roll into a cheap burger joint; Sean suddenly remembers Finn’s promise. _It’s a date, sweetie_.

“Yeah, we’ll take three Number Ones,” Finn says to the lady at the drive-through window. Sean vaguely recognizes her; he’s been to this place before, ordered from this exact same window, always with his dad or Lyla. He wonders if the lady recognizes him. Does he look like he belongs in the back of this car, or does he look like he’s being kidnapped?

Finn slaps the steering wheel, remembering something. “Oh, right! An’ a kid’s meal!”

Cassidy snickers, but Sean bristles. Is the kid’s meal for him?

No. As soon as Finn takes the bags of food, he dives into the colorful kid’s meal box and removes the toy inside. He cackles in victory; it’s a small, plastic Power Bear. A button on its stomach makes Power Bear’s arm extend in a vague punching motion. Finn waves it in Cassidy’s face, punching her cheek.

“You fuckin’ loser!” Cassidy laughs. She slaps his hand away. “Just shut up and drive!”

Finn has an apartment downtown. It’s a lot like his car, rusty and dirty and filled with old takeout boxes. He and Cassidy shuffle around the mess and set up on the back porch, which is little more than a square of concrete piled with junk. Finn takes a metal folding chair; Sean and Cassidy have to squat on overturned milk crates.

A flat, unimpressive burger wrapped in paper lands in Sean’s lap. Finn dumps all of the fries into the empty bag and places it on the ground, within reach of everybody.

“So…” he says, leaning back. “What’s goin’ on… here?”

He waves his fry like a conductor’s baton, motioning between Sean and Cassidy. Cold dread creeps up Sean’s neck. Finn is about to go all “protective big brother” on him, isn’t he?

But Cassidy rolls her eyes. “Relax, dude. He’s my Spanish tutor.”

“Y-Yeah,” Sean says. The burger is still unopened in his hands. “I’m just helping her study.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool,” Finn says, raising his hands in apology. “I wasn’t tryna bust anybody’s balls. I just like… knowin’ the score.”

Sean isn’t really sure what that means, but it makes Cassidy laugh through her nose. Finn downs his fries and digs a pack of cigarettes out of his vest.

“So, uh…” Sean says, uncomfortable in the silence. “Cassidy says… you grew up together?”

Finn lights his cigarette. A kid-sized cereal bowl serves as his ashtray. “Yeah, you could say that. We had the same foster momma, few miles down the road. Been, what? ‘Bout four years now, Cass?”

“Way too fuckin’ long,” Cassidy murmurs. Finn makes an exaggerated face of hurt. “Ya’know what I mean. I hate… stayin’ in one place.”

“Just six more months!”

“Seven,” Cassidy glowers.

“Seven, then,” Finn concedes. He sounds almost sad, like he’s tired of having the same argument. “Then you get that sweet diploma, forever.”

Cassidy leans back, arms crossed. She looks away and murmurs, “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Hey now, it ain’t all bad! Hell, if I’d had a tutor this cute, maybe I’d’ve stayed.” He winks at Sean. “Woulda gotten straight fuckin’ A’s.”

Sean tries to laugh at that, but his mind is still reeling, trying to connect some very disparate dots. The bra in Finn’s car. The wink. _Sweetie_.

Sean wants to ask questions. Very deep, very personal questions. He drinks his soda instead.

“So, what about you, Sean Diaz?” Finn takes a long drag from his cigarette and lets it out with an equally long trail of smoke. “What’s your story?”

“No story,” Sean replies.

“Yes, there is! C’mon! Ev’rybody’s got one!”

“I really don’t. All I do is go to school. Run track. Babysit. Work a few shifts at Z-Mart.” Sean’s mouth stretches, weighed down by the sheer mediocrity of his own life. “Hanging with you guys is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.”

“ _Fuck_ , that’s sad,” says Cassidy.

“There’s just not enough hours in the day, you know?” Sean says, looking up at both of them. “My dad’s always like… ‘You have time to figure things out,’ but I’m all… fucking _when_? How am I supposed to have a life when I gotta pay bills and study and chase after Daniel?”

His heart is beating fast, half in anger, half in fear. Here comes the part where Finn and Cassidy take Esteban’s side, reminding Sean that things aren’t easy for him, either. He never asked for any of this. He’s doing his best.

“That fuckin’ sucks, man,” says Finn. He leans forward, placing a hand on Sean’s knee. “I’m sorry.”

Another hand grips Sean by the shoulder. Cassidy. “I get it. You feel… tied down. Trapped. It ain’t fair.”

Their hands are so… heavy. Like stones piled up on stones. And yet, somehow, under their weight, Sean feels… free.

“Thanks guys,” he says.

They spend the rest of the afternoon shooting monsters with Finn’s PlayBox. Cassidy isn’t really into it, but she laughs as the boys get their asses kicked. For just two perfect, carefree hours, Sean lingers on that dirty couch, wedged between Finn and Cassidy.

 

*

 

“Not hungry, _mijo_?”

It takes a considerable amount of effort not to jump at Dad’s question. He’s sitting at the kitchen counter, balanced on a wooden stool. Sean and Daniel are across from him, doing the same.

Sean pokes at his food. He hasn’t eaten any of it, but the pasta has moved across his plate. “Yeah. I guess not.”

Sean realizes how incriminating that is. He’s usually starving after track, but of course, he didn’t _go_ to track. He still showered like did, and changed his shirt, hoping Esteban wouldn’t catch the scent of Finn’s cigarettes.

“Was school… okay?” Dad asks carefully. He’s worried. Sean might actually be grateful for the concern, if he didn’t have anything to hide.

“It was fine,” he says.

“And track?”

Sean shrugs. He hopes it looks casual, but he can feel the unnatural stiffness in his shoulders. Dad doesn’t reply; the silence stretches between them. The only sound comes from Daniel’s obnoxious chewing.

Dad sets down his fork. “Coach Aaron texted me.”

Shit.

“Said you weren’t at practice.”

“Oooh! Busted!” Daniel snickers.

“No one’s busted,” Dad says. He focuses entirely on Sean. “You wanna tell me what you were up to?”

His voice is calm. Casual. He’s not mad, just… curious. And maybe a little disappointed. Guilt twists in Sean’s gut.

“Yeah…” Sean sighs, his shoulders dropping. “I ditched so I could… tutor this one girl.”

Daniel snorts. “You? A tutor?”

“She needed help with Spanish!” Sean shoots back, but regrets it when Dad laughs. Of course he saw right through the _tutoring_ excuse. Dad isn’t stupid.

“Yeah, I thought it was something like that,” he says. “I get it, _mijo_. But you made a commitment to your team, right? Don’t let dates distract you from your responsibilities.”

_Dates_. Like that’s all it was. Making awkward passes at some girl and not… escaping from his life. Bitching about his dad.

Sean can’t look at him. “I know. It was… just this one time.”

“Hey.” Dad places a hand on Sean’s shoulder, making him look up. “It’s alright. You’re a good kid, Sean. I trust you.”

Sean tries to smile. He has no reason not to. He’s off the hook—but for some reason, his gut only tightens all the more.

 

*

 

The week passes. Sean’s life settles more or less into its usual routine. School. Homework. Video games. Daniel. Track. Lyla. Waving at Cassidy in the hall; explaining to Ellery that yes, she’s a Senior, and yes, he knows her.

They text sometimes. Sean got her number during their first Spanish lesson, but he never got Finn’s. He considers asking Cassidy for it, but that seems… weird. Sean isn’t really sure why.

But then, after first period that Friday, an unknown number lights up his phone.

_Hey my little Sean! It’s Finn!_

Sean stops dead. Finn got his number! Probably from Cassidy. How long has he had it? Has he been waiting for an excuse to text?

Sean starts typing a reply. Deletes it. Starts over again. He’s going to be late for Chem Lab, but he doesn’t care.

Finally, he hits send. _Hey! What up man?_

_Is Cass at school today?_ Finn replies. _I asked her but she’s a fuckin liar._

Sean thinks. Cassidy wasn’t by her locker today. Doesn’t mean she isn’t here, but…

_Don’t think so_

Finn’s reply is immediate: _Shit_

Guilt worms its way into Sean. Did he just betray Cassidy? Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

But then, Finn sends another message, dispelling Sean’s guilt at once. _Guess I’ll go play school bus. Thanks sweetie! <3 _

Sean smiles at the dumb little heart. Finn is such a dork.

He sees Cassidy at school later. She doesn’t look very happy, but she returns his wave. She even texts him during fourth period, inviting him over to Finn’s place for video games and takeout.

_Can’t tonight_ , he texts back, his phone hidden behind his math book. _Gotta be Super Bro. But I’ve got this weekend free_.

And that’s how it goes, for most of October. Finding spare moments to slip into Finn’s car and hide in his apartment, far away from sports and school and chores. It feels good to have a secret. A safe place. Something his dad doesn’t know about, something Daniel can’t break. Even if it’s just for a while, an hour here and there, Sean is glad to exist in the same place as Finn’s smoke and Cassidy’s guitar strings.

Usually, they stretch out in the living room and get high. Sometimes Cassidy lays on top of Finn, like a blanket, while Sean relaxes on the floor. Other times, all three of them stretch out together, side by side. Once, Sean took a seat on the couch and Finn draped himself across it, his head resting on Sean’s lap for the better part of an afternoon.

While they smoke, they talk. Sean learns a little more about Cassidy. Not much, though—and even less about Finn. There are things in their lives that are difficult to talk about, and Sean doesn’t want to pry. But he’s able to piece some of it together, like how Cassidy’s father and brother went to jail for assaulting her first boyfriend. Or how Finn himself spent time in juvie—though why, or for how long, he doesn’t say.

Sean doesn’t have any stories like that. Well, he has one, but doesn’t bring Karen into here. Not this place. So instead, he complains about his life. His boss. His dad. His brother.

Finn and Cassidy love it. They call him “Salty Sean” when he really gets going, usually about some stupid argument with Daniel.

“Dad took his side, as always,” Sean grumbles. He’s on the couch, wedged between Finn and Cassidy again. Out of all the ways they sit together, this one is by far his favorite, with Cassidy’s head on his shoulder and Finn’s hand on his thigh.

“Bet he played up the whole ‘innocent little angel’ face, huh?” Finn laughs. “Oldest trick in the baby brother handbook. Got me outta _ev’rythin’_.”

“It’s bullshit,” Sean says.

Cassidy hums, rubbing her cheek against Sean’s sleeve. She understands, just like Finn. Sean knew they would. They get him in a way no one else does—not even Lyla. Lyla is… too close to the situation. Too sympathetic towards Esteban and Daniel. She can see both sides of the argument—but Finn and Cass are on _Sean’s_ side. Always.

Finn changes the subject. Apparently, Cassidy’s birthday is on Wednesday. She’s turning eighteen. A legal adult.

“How you wanna celebrate?” Finn asks. His leg stretches across Sean’s lap to nudge Cassidy.

“Vegas, obviously. Hookers and blow.”

“Hells _yes_. But a little outta my price range right now, sweetheart.”

“Dayum. Guess we’ll just have ta stay here and get wasted.” Cassidy tilts her head, looking up at Sean. “You in, City Boy?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replies, though anxiety is already twisting in his stomach. What is going to tell Dad?

“Cool,” Finn says. “I’ll call the guys.”

Wait. There are guys? Finn has _friends_?

Duh. Of course he does. He’s Finn.

“You gonna take me ta Vegas for real, though, right? After graduation?”

“That’s the plan, baby girl.”

Sean’s heartbeat quickens. Suddenly, they both seem really far away. The two year gap between him and Cassidy is a wide chasm, and Finn… might as well be on another planet.

“You guys got… a lot of plans? For after graduation?” he asks, hating the waver in his voice. Finn’s hand tightens on his thigh, briefly.

“California, prob’ly. I still know some guys down there. We could find work. Get a place on the water. Our life can just be sun an’ sand an’ weed!”

Cassidy shifts, uncomfortable. “Sounds good, but… why we gotta stop there?”

There’s a pause. Sean watches the smoke trail off his cigarette and swirl up into Finn’s broken ceiling fan.

“Been a lotta places, Cass,” Finn says at last. “Don’t you think it’d be cool to have… a home?”

“Boy, we’re too young ta retire!”

“I’m too young to _be_ this tired.”

Cassidy laughs at that. Finn grins, proud of himself, but the smile is tinged with a sadness Sean can’t quite ignore.

“What ‘bout you, my little Sean? What’chu gonna do after you get that shiny diploma?”

“Assuming I don’t have work that day?” Sean smirks. “I dunno. Might travel with Lyla. She wants to see Europe. After that… I dunno.”

It’s so far away. So difficult to see—and yet rushing up on him so fast. Sean’s chest feels tight.

But then, Cassidy presses herself even closer to Sean, laying her head in the crook of his neck. Finn does something similar, resting his cheek atop Sean’s head. Suddenly, everything feels… still. Quiet. Calm.

Fuck. It’s only been two weeks. Two weeks, and Sean already can’t imagine his life without this place. How the hell is he going to survive when Finn and Cassidy run off to California?

 

*

 

It didn’t take long for Finn’s apartment to follow Sean beneath his bedsheets.

Shaking, sweating, one hand pressed to his mouth and the other between his legs, Sean thinks about how they sit together, all three of them, squashed on that dirty couch. Cassidy’s on top of him—soft breasts pressed to his chest, purple braids cascading around bare shoulders—while Finn is behind, his strong arms winding around both of them. Sean, of course, is in the middle, safe and secure.

He wonders if he should only be thinking about Cassidy. But she and Finn are so… similar. Where she goes, Finn follows, and when Cassidy presses her lips to his throat, so does Finn. It feels right. Natural.

Still, having Cassidy there, in his fantasies, is… helpful. Familiar. Sean hasn’t… He’s never done anything with anyone, but he’s definitely imagined other girls the way he imagines Cassidy now. Other guys, though…

Finn is the first guy to come here, in the cover night, in privacy of Sean’s own mind. Sean isn’t even sure that he would think of Finn at all, if Cassidy wasn’t with him. It’s all very… confusing.

And frustrating.

And fucking _good_.

Sean spills into his own hand. The Finn in his mind, kneeling between his legs, grins up at Sean and peppers kisses along the inside of his thigh. The same place Finn—the real Finn—so often splays his fingers. Cassidy hot breath tickles his ear.

_Did you like that, City Boy?_ she asks inside his head.

Yeah. He did.

He really fucking did.

 

*

 

Two days before Cassidy’s birthday, Jenn Murphy asks for Sean’s number.

He gives it to her. She’s cute, and he needs help with math anyway. And it’s not like he’s dating anyone. Fantasizing about a pair of stoner foster siblings definitely doesn’t count.

For those two days, he doesn’t see Finn or Cassidy outside his phone screen. Cassidy doesn’t come to school, and Finn can’t make her. Not during “Birthday Week.” Finn says that’s his gift for her—besides a rad fucking party.

Sean doesn’t ask Esteban until the very last minute. Stupid, Sean knows. But he was just so nervous about the answer, he kept finding excuses to put it off. Like, _Oh, not now, Dad’s in a bad mood. I’ll ask him later._ Or, _After I ace this Chemistry test, he’ll have to let me go, right?_

Finally, Sean can’t put it off any longer.

“Hey… Dad?”

“Oh, I know that tone,” Dad says, putting down his book. He settles back on the couch, arms crossed in that all-knowing, parental kind of way. “What are you after?”

Sean’s foot rubs against the carpet. “There’s a, um… party tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… The, uh… girl… I’ve been tutoring…”

Dad lets out an amused sound that makes Sean want to die.

“It’s her birthday,” Sean says in a rush. “And—I know it’s a school night, but she wants to celebrate _on_ her birthday, so… I was kinda hoping…”

Dad quirks a brow. “All your homework done?”

“Yeah.”

It’s not, but who gives an actual fuck?

“Then I don’t see why not. As long as you’re home by midnight.”

Relief floods through Sean, loosening the knot in his stomach. “Thanks, Dad. Really.”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember this next time you wanna complain about babysitting.” Esteban reaches for his book. “How are you getting there?”

“Oh. Her, uh… brother has a car. He’ll pick me up.”

“Sean.” Dad’s tone is gentle, but serious. “If there’s drinking at this party, I’ll pick you up. Okay, _mijo_? Don’t do anything stupid because you’re afraid of getting in trouble.”

Sean groans. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

Finn and Cass pick him up around eight. Esteban wanted to meet them, but Daniel chose that exact moment to have a fit about his homework, and Sean slipped out of the front door before Dad could notice.

“Holy shit, your hair!” he says. The back seat is filled with fresh pizzas for a change; the smell of hot grease and cardboard sends tingles of excitement through Sean’s fingertips.

Cassidy twists around in the passenger’s seat, showing off her new haircut. It’s still purple, but much shorter, cropped just below her ear.

“Ya like it?” she grins.

“Hells yeah, Cass! So punk rock. I’m… wicked jealous.”

Cassidy raises her brows at Finn. “Hear that? You could make a career outta cuttin’ hair.”

“Girl, you know I ain’t ‘bout to sell my gift to some corporate machine!”

“ _You_ cut her hair?” Sean marvels.

“Who else, sweetie? You think I wake up like this?” Finn motions to his own brown-blue hair.

They have one more stop to make before the party. The excitement in Sean’s veins intensifies as they roll into the Z-Mart parking lot.

His boss, his coworkers; everyone sees him running down the aisles with Finn and Cassidy, throwing chips and cookies and Chock-O-Crisps into the shopping cart. Cassidy doesn’t want a cake; they load up on candy instead. Halloween is soon anyway, so there’s a surplus.

They race shopping carts in the parking lot. Sean wins, clinging tight to the handle as it rattles over cracked tarmac. He crashes into the side of Finn’s car, earning a cheer from both him and Cass. Pride, adrenaline, and sheer stupidity inspires Sean to tilt back his head and howl—and before he can feel embarrassed about it, Finn and Cassidy are howling along with him.

And Sean thinks, _This is it_. This is what freedom feels like. Nothing will ever get any better than this exact moment, standing in the Z-Mart parking lot, howling at the black, empty sky.

There’s already people in Finn’s apartment when they arrive. The door is wide open, spilling music and orange light into the street.

“Finally!” says more than one person, all clamoring to help Finn with the food and snacks. There’s a half-dozen of them, already shitfaced.

A girl with dark skin and small tattoos is the first to notice Sean.

“Who’s this? The stripper?” she half-grins. She has a low voice and a discerning gaze. Fuck—she looks even older than Finn, who drapes his arms over her shoulders.

“Hanns, this Sean. He’s cool.”

“Uh—nice to meet you,” Sean says, reaching for her hand. She doesn’t take it.

“Jeezus, Finn, how old is this kid?”

Sean flushes. “I’m a Junior.”

He doesn’t say _sixteen_ , but Hanns—Hannah—seems to know anyway. She makes a disbelieving face at Finn and shrugs out of his grasp.

“Good fucking luck with that, Finn.”

Finn gives the middle finger to her retreating back, but it’s a playful gesture. He wraps his arm around Sean instead.

“Ignore her. She’s havin’ a rough week.” He laughs as Cassidy cracks open a can of beer and tilts it back. “Unlike our birthday girl!”

Cassidy is still chugging her beer. Shouts of encouragement fill the room, mixed with wolf-whistles. Cassidy drains her beer and spreads her arms wide in victory, earning a burst of applause.

The rest of the party is much the same. Everyone is loud and happy and wasted. All the same shit Sean hates about other parties, but somehow, some way, Finn and Cassidy make it feel alright. Even _fun_ . Sean drinks with them and laughs at their stories and cheers when they gather around Finn’s PlayBox. He texts Lyla a couple of times, and sends her a few photos, because there should be proof—someone should _know_ —that for just one night, Sean was actually kind of cool.

“You need a tattoo,” Cassidy says. Sean’s pleasantly buzzed at the table, picking the pepperoni off his pizza. Cassidy grips his arms. “C’ _mon_ , Diaz! Lemme give you one!”

“Nah, Cass. I can’t.”

“It can be your birthday present to me!”

True. He didn’t get her anything. But, still…

“When _I_ turn eighteen… sure. You can, uh… give me anything you want.”

That sounds like a fair deal to Sean, but Cassidy frowns. “That’s two years away, Sean. You dunno what’s gonna happen. But we got _tonight_ ! Tonight is _real_!”

There’s an urgency in her voice that Sean doesn’t understand. It makes him feel… prickly. Hot. Like an animal, backed into a corner, hackles raised.

“Cass…”

“It’s fine. I geddit.” She stands up. The table rattles from the movement. She stares down at Sean, her lips smiling but her eyes sad. “Don’t ever change, Sean Diaz.”

The way she says it—Sean isn’t sure if that’s an insult, or a sincere plea.

He drinks more. Laughs more. Midnight inches closer with maddening certainty, like a fairytale drawing to a close, all the magic washed away at the stroke of twelve. Sean looks around the party; no one is clearheaded enough to drive him home. His coach, transformed into a pumpkin.

He should call Dad.

Sean can barely work the buttons on his phone. He drank too much—but he has to call. He promised. Dad said he would come.

Dad, here. Dad, meeting Finn and Cassidy. Seeing the couch where Sean has wasted so many afternoons. Dad, knowing about this place. Dad finding Sean, the next time Sean doesn’t want to be found.

“Hey!” Finn calls from the couch, waving a PlayBox controller. “Where's my Player Two?!”

Sean puts his phone away.

 

*

 

Sean wakes up when his phone goes off at seven—his usual morning alarm. His mouth is dry. His sight, bleary. His head…

Shoving his face through a window would probably hurt less.

He’s on the couch, alone. Finn is on the floor just below him, mouth open in deep slumber. Cassidy is… somewhere, but Hannah and the rest of Finn’s friends are gone.

Sean has about million texts from Dad—and Daniel, who must have taken Dad’s phone just to tell Sean how much trouble he’s in. Dad’s messages aren’t angry, though. Just worried.

Sean nudges Finn with his foot.

“Huh? Wazzat?” Finn murmurs.

“Finn. Wake up. I have to go to school.”

Finn’s eyes open at the word _school_ , suddenly alert.

“Right. On it!” He scrambles upright, patting himself down in search of car keys. When he finds them, he lets out a victorious _Aha!_ and turns towards his bedroom. “Cass! Rise ‘n shine!”

Sean gets up and… tries to get ready for school, but he has none of his usual things. No backpack. No toothbrush. He’s got a comb and deodorant in his sports locker at school—thank god. At least he won’t have to spend the whole day looking like a sweaty, hungover pig.

He follows Finn into the bedroom. It’s identical to the rest of Finn’s apartment, except the piles of garbage are piles of books instead. Sean reels. He had no idea Finn liked to read.

“C’mon, Cass! Wakey wakey!” Finn rubs a flat palm between Cassidy’s shoulders. She’s face-down on the mattress.

“Birthday week,” she grumbles.

“Birthday’s over, sweetheart.”

“Birthday _week_!” Cassidy snaps. She props herself up on her elbows, glaring daggers at Finn. Her cheeks are stained red with a hangover. Finn surrenders.

“Alright, fair enough. Get some sleep, okay?” He places a hand atop her head, smoothing out her short-cropped hair. The touch seems to soothe Cassidy.

“’Kay,” she murmurs. Finn turns to Sean, nodding his head towards the door—but Cassidy’s voice makes him pause. “Finn?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“Thanks for the party.”

“’Course, baby girl. I gotchu.”

A wink, and the boys are gone, rattling down the road in Finn’s car. Sean half expects it to break down on the way to school, just to make sure he’s well and truly fucked.

“Cheer up, my little Sean.”

Sean pinches the bridge of his nose. “My dad is going to murder me.”

“Yeah… pro’bly.” For some reason, Finn’s agreement makes Sean feel better. The hand on his knee, even more so. “You haunt me any time you want, okay beautiful?”

“If my dad doesn’t throw my ghost in prison… Sure.”

From the safety of his desk in first period, Sean texts his dad.

_Everything’s okay. I’m at school._

Dad’s replies come one after the other, less than second apart.

_Thank god_  
_Stay safe, mijo_  
_We’ll talk later_

And that’s it. Sean’s day is allowed to proceed pretty much normally, except for Lyla freaking out about his amazing, wild night. She already forwarded all of his photos to Eric and Adam and Ellery—who forwarded them to everyone else, including Jenn Murphy. Sean is suddenly the coolest guy in eleventh grade; the guy who parties with Seniors and people in their twenties.

Jenn talks to him at lunch. Walks right up to his table. Sean still feels kind of gross and greasy from his night on Finn’s couch, but Jenn looks at him with a certain amount of respect, a very unique and envious sort of awe. The bags under his eyes are a badge of honor, proof that he actually lived the life everyone else dreams about.

Jenn asks why he hasn’t used her number yet. Her coy smile stirs some very familiar and welcome feelings in Sean; sensations he’s come to associate with Finn’s couch. It’s reassuring to know that he can still feel those things, without Finn’s scent or hands or lips.

Esteban is waiting to pick up Sean after school. Actually standing there, in the parking lot, leaning against the driver’s side door. No Daniel, though. Shit, did Dad get a sitter just to chew him out?

Esteban doesn’t speak. He just wraps Sean in a hug.

“I was really worried about you, _mijo_.”

“I know, Dad. I’m okay.” Sean can’t help but hug him back. Fuck. Will he ever be as tall as Dad? As broad? As strong?

“You have to text me back, Sean. Always.”

“I know.”

“Even when you don’t want to.”

“I know.”

Esteban finally pulls away. He opens the car door. “Okay. Get in.”

Sean’s grounded, obviously. For the next week, when he’s not at work or school, he’ll be babysitting Daniel.

Sean nods silently, but his heart is made of lead. One week. Seven afternoons away from Finn’s couch and Cassidy’s guitar. He can’t even begin to imagine how he’ll survive.

Esteban pulls into their driveway and turns off the car, but he stays in his seat, so Sean does, too.

“I need to know that you’re safe,” Esteban says. “One text, _mijo_. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“No,” Sean murmurs.

“This… trio thing we have,” Esteban says, motioning between himself and Sean, “doesn’t work unless you act like an adult. You have to be responsible. I _need_ you to be responsible.”

Sean’s face is hot, and his chest is so, so tight—but there’s no smoke or guitar strings to loosen it.

This is so unfair. So unbelievably fucking unfair. Not Dad, not— _this_ , exactly. No. Sean knows he fucked up here, but… all of this, Sean’s _entire life_ , is so unfair that if he screamed, he’s certain the walls would shake.

He shouldn't have to hide away in Finn’s apartment. He shouldn’t _need_ to keep these secrets, or scavenge for an hour here and there to feel like a normal fucking teenager. He shouldn’t have to pay bills or babysit Daniel or pick up Dad’s slack.

He should have a mom to do these things for him.

Maybe it would be different if Karen had died. Easier, somehow. Then Sean wouldn’t have anyone to blame but goddamn fate. But Karen just _decided_ to walk away one day. Just turned in her Mom Card and washed her hands of them.

Sean would love to do the same. Just jump in Finn’s car and disappear. No responsibilities. No ties. Nothing.

But he can’t.

_Fuck_ —he can’t even stay out for one night without a whole damn lecture.

Sean’s lashes are wet, but he’s not crying. He pulls his hood up, concealing his face.

“I hear you,” he says. He just wants the conversation to be over.

“Okay. Lecture over. Go get started on your homework.”

Beyond the periphery of Sean’s hood, he can see Esteban leaning over to pat his leg. But Sean is out of the car before he can reach.

 

*

 

The next day is Friday. Cassidy isn’t at school. Not surprising, since it’s her last day of Birthday Week. Sean floats from first period to last, still riding the wave of his newfound popularity. People he’s never even seen at school before suddenly know his name, calling out him in the hall. They want to know where the next party is going to be. Sean laughs and says he doesn’t know—he’s grounded for the next week, anyway. Somehow, this only solidifies his coolness.

After school—a stroke of luck. Track is cancelled. Sean suddenly has an hour. One glorious, beautiful hour to spend as he pleases, before he’s locked up all weekend with Daniel. He could probably catch Lyla before she gets on the bus. Or call Finn. Maybe he and Sean and Cassidy could grab burgers—get Finn that Power Bear toy he’s still looking for.

Sean is just pulling out his phone, when he spots Finn’s red car in parking lot. He’s actually parked in a space, not idling at the curb. Finn himself sits cross-legged on the hood.

“Hey man! I was about to text you,” Sean says, drawing up beside him. Finn doesn’t answer right away. He stares at the school building, then takes a long drag from a cigarette. Ashes fall from the tip like bits of snow, swirling away on the wind.

“Was Cass here today?” he asks softly. His voice is… odd. Strained. Sean’s never heard Finn so tense, and it makes his own body go still.

“No. Birthday Week, remember?”

Finn exhales. White smoke curls from his mouth. The _fuck_ that escapes his lips is little more than a whisper.

“Finn—what’s wrong?”

Finn takes another long drag before flicking his cigarette away. “Cass is gone, Sean.”

“What?”

“Right after I dropped you off. I went home an’… she weren’t there. Figured she gone back to her foster house, but… No one seen her since the party.”

Sean doesn’t understand. His mind scrambles, trying to pick up a thousand scattered pieces and fit them together so that this will all make sense. _What does he mean? What does he mean?_ Sean thinks, over and over, though he already knows the answer, he _knows_ what this means, he’s been through this before—

“The signs were there,” Finn says. His eyes are wet and shining. “Talkin’ ‘bout change, beggin’ me for a haircut… Said she wanted somethin’ special for her birthday, but I knew. I _knew_. I just didn’t wanna think she’d do it again.”

“She’s… done this before?”

Finn sniffs and rubs his nosering. “Yeah. Comes back a few days later with new tats. But this time… I dunno, Sean.”

The silence that stretches between them is a plane, passing overhead, leaving behind white trails. The plane itself is far away and distant, but it sends vibrations all the way down to Earth, shaking the air.

“Fuck, Finn.” That’s all Sean can say.

“I been in foster care since I was twelve, y’know?” Finn says suddenly. “Ever since I got outta juvie. Bounced around a lotta homes. Nothin’ stuck ‘til Cass. An’ she… she don’t wanna stick.” Finn presses a hand over his eyes. “I’m so fuckin’ stupid.”

The pieces in Sean’s mind, so hastily gathered, so haphazardly slapped together, fall once again to the floor and shatter.

He tries to speak. Can’t. There’s a lump in throat that turns each word into a whisper. A small, almost childish sound.

“My… mom ran out on us. Just fucking left one day. No warning. _Nothing_.” Knuckle-white fists tremble at Sean’s side. “Guess she didn’t want to stick either.”

“Fuck ‘er.”

Finn’s hand falls from his face. He digs into his vest and draws out a pack of cigarettes. He offers one to Sean, who settles next to him on the hood of his car and accepts. A moment later, Finn lights the cigarette hanging from Sean’s mouth, then does the same to his own.

“So, here’s us,” Finn says. “Two guys not worth stayin’ for.”

“Where… do you think you’ll go?” Sean asks. His voice is still ragged. He swallows hard, trying to clear it.

“Go?” Finn echoes.

“You and…” Sean shakes his head. “You talked about going to… California.”

Finn leans back on the windshield, stretching out his legs in front of him. Sean does the same. Lying side-by-side with Finn, Sean feels like he’s on that smelly, wonderful couch.

“She was the one who wanted outta Seattle,” Finn says. Sean notices how they’ve both stopped saying Cassidy’s name, just like Karen at home. “I’m… tired, Sean.”

Sean nods, but he doesn’t think Finn can see it. They’re both staring upwards. The smoke trailing from their mouths are the twin trails of a plane; lines of white against blue sky.

“So… do you think… you’ll stay around? Until I graduate?”

Sean can feel Finn’s gaze.

“Sure. If you want.”

“Yeah…” Sean says, stilling looking at the sky. “That would be… cool.”

They don’t say anything else. They just lay back on the hood of Finn’s car, watching the planes go by in silence. It’s comfortable. Effortless. Natural and familiar. They no longer need Cassidy to enjoy each other’s company—and Sean realizes that if this moment follows him beneath the sheets tonight, Cassidy won’t be a part of it. Just Finn.

_Just_ Finn. With Sean. Pressed against the couch. Writhing on Sean’s bed.

Sean is terrified by how excited that makes him.

That night, while Daniel wrestles with Dad over the PlayBox controller, Sean sits at the counter, frowning at his math homework. Pre-Calc confused him enough before he met Finn and Cassidy, but now, with all these new thoughts rushing through his head…

Sean reaches for his phone.

_Hey Jenn. Sean Diaz here_.

 

*

 

The rest of Sean’s confinement passes uneventfully—unless you count Daniel’s tantrums. Fuck, that boy can shout loud enough to bring down the house.

Eric makes an announcement on Sunday. He’s hosting a Halloween party, this Friday night. Sean won’t be grounded then, so technically, he can go. He doesn’t make any solid plans, though.

_Don’t puss out!_ Eric texts. _People wanna see Sean Diaz! The Party Animal!_

Sean texts him back. _Shit did you promise people I’d be at your party?_

_Maaaybe…_

_Fuck dude how many?_

_Only the entire eleventh grade!_

Sean rolls back his head. Shit. Now he’s _definitely_ not going. There’s no way he can live up to his reputation. Finn and… Finn was the only reason he enjoyed that first party, anyway.

It’s Wednesday. The last day of Sean’s punishment. Just one more afternoon with Daniel, and he’ll be back on Finn’s couch. Sean’s already picked out the CDs they’re going to listen to; basically anything that doesn’t involve an acoustic guitar.

“Come on, brat!” Sean says, waving to Daniel from the edge of the elementary playground. Daniel makes a face but hurries to his side.

“Don’t call me a brat!”

“Then don’t _act_ like one.”

Daniel snarls at him, like a tiny wolf. “I can’t wait for _Dad_ to pick me up again.”

“Yeah, you and me both.”

Sean’s phone buzzes. Sean groans, expecting another pushy text from Eric—but no. It’s Finn.

_How’s it feel to be free man? <3 _

Sean grins sadly at the message. _Sorry dude. One more day_.

_Aww, shit. Now I feel like an asshole_.

“So, what are we going to do?” Daniel asks. Sean ignores him, but Daniel tugs at his arm. “Sean. _Seeean_. What are we going to do? For our last day?”

Sean tries to shake him off. “Our what?”

“Of our week together. It’s our last day. We should do something cool!”

Fucking _what_ ? Daniel sounds… kind of sad. Like he’s actually going to miss spending his afternoons with Sean—even though he was _just_ wishing for Dad, less than a minute ago.

“Yeah— _no_ ,” Sean says. “Your gonna do your homework before Dad gets home, or _I’m_ the one who’ll get yelled at.”

Daniel whines, but Sean ignores him. He’s still trying to compose a reply to Finn. Luckily, Finn gets back to him first.

_Guess your surprise can wait until tomorrow._

_Surprise???_ Sean replies, adding a few smiling emoji to the end for good measure.

_Don’t get excited. It’s more for me than you, but it’ll make you laugh. I’m pretty stoked._

Then, two seconds later, Finn adds: _Shit did I just give it away?_

_No man. I got no idea, swear._

He’s being honest. Sean has no idea what Finn could be talking about, but whatever it is, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

Daniel is tugging on his arm again. Chatting away and working Sean’s last nerve. It’s just annoying enough to make Sean’s next idea feel like a stroke of genius.

“Hey, Daniel.”

“Huh? What?”

“We _should_ do something cool.”

 

*

 

Sean doesn’t bring Daniel to Finn’s apartment. He’s not _that_ fucking stupid.

But inviting Finn to _his_ house is pretty damn close.

Finn looks so out of place. Like one of Daniel’s alien toys come to life, glancing around a strange, new planet.

Daniel looks at Finn the exact same way; like there’s an actual alien standing in his house, breathing his air.

“His hair is _blue_!” Daniel stage-whispers, tugging Sean’s hand.

“Yeah, dude, be chill,” Sean hisses. Finn laughs and flips his bangs.

“You like it, little man?”

“Yeah! It’s _awesome_!” Daniel steps around Sean—he’d been half-hiding behind his big brother, uncertain about Finn until just now. “Can I see your tattoos?”

“Sure, why not?”

Finn holds out his arms for Daniel’s inspection. The boy takes one of Finn’s hands in both of his, flipping it over several times, mesmerized by the lines of ink.

“Whoa! Did they hurt?”

“Gettin’ stabbed with a buncha needles don’t exactly feel good, little man.”

“Oh. Do they _still_ hurt?” Daniel prods the flesh of Finn’s palm, testing it.

“Nah, they only sting for a little while. Heal up real pretty, though.”

Daniel motions for Finn to kneel. Finn complies, and before he’s even reached the ground, Daniel has Finn’s face between his hands. He touches the tattoos under Finn’s eye. Traces the line under his lip.

Something hot prickles on Sean’s neck. Something very similar to embarrassment.

“Okay—that’s enough,” he says, pulling Daniel back. “Sorry, he just… gets excited.”

“We’re cool,” Finn says. He rises to his feet. “So, do I get the grand tour?”

“Yeah! You should see my room!” Daniel says—but then something seems to occur to him. “No—wait! Let me just—don’t come in yet!”

He dashes off to his room and slams the door behind him. Finn laughs.

“Dayum, he reminds me’a me.”

“He’s not always this cute,” Sean glowers.

“Just like me.” Finn’s eyes are sparkling. “So… tour?”

Sean is still curious about Finn’s _surprise_ , but doesn’t want to seem too eager. He drums his hands against his pockets, thinking. “Yeah, uh… Let’s start downstairs.”

The garage is safe. Which is to say, free of anything that could embarrass Sean—except maybe his old tag on the wall, a painting of an octopus surrounded by Daniel’s scribbles.

“That’s the car Dad’s fixing me for graduation,” he says, meaning a brown junker with no wheels. It’s in pretty bad shape, but even half-finished it looks better than Finn’s busted-ass car.

“Your dad’s a mechanic?” Finn asks.

“Yeah.”

“Mine too.”

There’s something… off in Finn’s tone, but his lips quickly curve into a smile. He rushes to the passenger’s seat and ducks his head inside.

“So, this is where Sean Diaz will be takin’ all his hot dates!”

“Pffft, yeah. If Daniel ever stops cock-blocking me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but he will _never_ stop cock-blockin’ you. That’s what baby bros do best. I’m speakin’ from experience here!” He flashes a grin at Sean over the roof of the car. “Why you think I got ten times more action than my brothers?”

“You got a lot of them?” Sean flushes. “Brothers, I mean. A lot of brothers.” Not _action_.

“Three. All older.”

“They still in California?”

Finn licks his lips. “Yeah. They, uh… They gonna be there for a while.” He changes the subject. “Let’s see what’s goin’ on under the hood.”

Finn bends over the exposed engine, his brows knit together. For some reason, Sean’s heartbeat quickens—then jumps into his throat, as Finn reaches into Esteban’s toolbox and begins working.

“W-Wait, Finn, don’t—”

“Relax, sweetie. You think my piece’a shit car could still run if I didn’t know what I was doin’?”

That’s… a fair point, but still. “My dad’s been putting this together for me, Finn.”

“Yeah, for _you_. You wanna get on the road, dontcha?” Finn’s eyes never leave his work, his hands moving with quick, deft motions. “Your dad won’t mind a little help.”

Sean tries to relax. It becomes easier, the longer Finn works. He does know what he’s doing—and watching him fiddle with the engine, his fingertips coated in grease, a bit of sweat beading on his brow… is pretty hot.

Soon, they’re just talking, like any other afternoon in Finn’s apartment. Sean bitches about school, and chores, and all the normal shit that’s piled up since they last saw each other.

“ _Dayum_ , I missed Salty Sean! Here—take this, an’ hand me that flex-wrench.” Finn points a black-tipped finger across the room.

“I still can’t believe my high school bullshit is interesting to you,” Sean says. It kind of made sense when Cassidy was around, because she was still part of that silly, stupid high school world, but Finn… Finn has his own shit. His own _life_.

“Are you kiddin’?” Finn laughs. “I would give _anythin’_ to have high school bullshit! Tests an’… bitchy teachers? Pep rallies? All them cheerleaders, runnin’ around? Fuckin’ A, that’s the life.”

Sean hesitates. It’s none of his business, but…

“So, why did you… drop out?”

Finn’s eyes stay on the engine, but his hands go still. “I got some… bad advice. Seemed like a good idea, at the time.”

Sean wonders who gave him the advice, and why Finn took it to heart.

Daniel whines from the top of the stairs.

“Sean! Finn! Come on, you’ve been down there forev-er!”

“Guess that’s our cue,” Finn says. Instead of reaching for an oil rag, he wipes his hands on his jeans.

Upstairs, the door to Daniel’s room is wide open—and Sean’s, firmly shut. Sean supposes the one benefit to spending so long in the garage is that Finn probably won’t have time to see Sean’s bedroom. Sean is… definitely not ready for that.

Daniel’s been putting his Minecraft skills to work. All of his blankets and every spare sheet from the linen closet has been draped somewhere across his room, giving the space a tent-like appearance.

“Welcome to the Power Bear Cave!” Daniel says. Finn makes a low hum, impressed, but Daniel blocks the door with an outstretched arm. “Wait! You can only come in if you say the password.”

“Alright! What’s the password?”

“The password is…” A wicked grin splits Daniel’s face. “’Sean is a poop.’”

That little shit.

Finn laughs, though, and something ugly and petty rises up in Sean. He’s been here before, with Lyla. She always plays along, happy to tease Sean if it’ll make Daniel smile. Sean knows it’s harmless, but it’s still fucking annoying.

Finn clears his throat. “Sean is a…dorable.”

“Nope. Wrong.”

“Sure he is! Just lookit ‘im! Show the man your pretty face, Sean.”

Daniel wrinkles his nose. “You can’t come in without the password.”

Like they even _want_ to go into his dumb clubhouse?!

“I know!” Finn says, snapping his fingers. “I got somethin’ in my car I bet will change your mind.” He winks. “The surprise.”

Daniel’s face looks exactly the way Sean’s heart feels.

Finn returns from his car with a colorful box that Sean recognizes—the kid’s meal box from the burger joint. It’s absolutely stuffed with small, plastic toys; not just Power Bear, but every member of the Aweso superhero team.

Finn must have finally finished his collection.

Daniel is ecstatic. He lets them into the clubhouse, where they sit cross-legged on the floor. Finn dumps out his toys. Daniel snatches up the Power Bear that Finn got the first time Sean ever sat in his car, and makes it punch at Sean.

“Power Bear attacks! No one can defeat justice!”

“Quick, defend yourself!” Finn shouts, gripping Sean’s knee. Sean reaches for a superhero he couldn’t possibly name and bravely fights off Power Bear.

This would feel… really fucking lame, is Finn wasn’t here. But somehow, with Finn’s hand on him, it feels alright. At least Daniel is actually being kind of cool, for once.

It’s… different, than lying on Finn’s couch. But still awesome. Still chill. Still far away from all the high school bullshit.

The game spreads into the living room. Daniel has Power Bear; Sean and Finn have two masked heroes who Daniel says would never actually work together, but it’s okay just this once. The three of them dive around the couch, making laser noises with their mouths and laughing and shouting.

Sean hasn’t felt this way since the Z-Mart parking lot; stupid and free. Like he could toss back his head and howl, and the whole pack would howl with him. A similar energy grips him now, inspiring Sean to dive-roll over the couch and land flat on his back, pressed into the cushions.

Finn pounces. Suddenly, Sean is pinned beneath his weight, just like the couch in Sean’s imagination, the one that follows him beneath the sheets. Sean’s been in this exact position a dozen times, and this is the part where imaginary Finn always leans down and kisses his throat.

But the real Finn tickles him, eliciting peals of laughter. Sean tries to slap Finn’s hands away, to little avail.

“Stop it!” Sean wheezes, laughing, writhing, glowing.

“Sean!” Daniel shouts. Sean ignores him. Not now. “ _Sean_!”

“Fucking _what_?”

Sean cranes his head around Finn, glaring at the little shit. Daniel is standing next to the open living room door—and beside him, Dad.

_Fuck!_

Sean pushes Finn away, hard. Finn stumbles back, confused, until he sees the eldest Diaz. His laughter becomes an uneasy cough.

“H-Hey, Dad,” Sean says, like there’s nothing to see here. Like they were all just sitting around, watching television.

“Hey,” Esteban replies. “How’s the… babysitting?”

“Great, obviously,” Sean says. Esteban arches his brows in a way that Sean can’t tell if he’s amused or not.

“Guess I didn’t need to come home early, then,” he says. “I figured you’d be at each other’s throats, after a whole week together.”

Sean makes a vague motion with his hands. Esteban looks between Sean and Finn.

“So… Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Finn.” The teen in question rocks his shoulders unevenly. “You must be… _Señor Diaz_.”

Sean winces.

“Yeah, I guess I must be,” Esteban replies. Sean is painfully aware of Dad’s roaming eye, finding every detail of Finn’s appearance that Sean has learned to overlook. The tattoos on his face. The rips in his jeans. The ring in his nose and studs in his ears. The fucking _knife_ at his belt. “You go to my son’s school?”

“Once upon a time, I did,” Finn shrugs. He doesn’t meet Esteban’s eye.

“Hm. Well, Sean is still grounded, so…”

“Yeah, I should prob’ly bounce, anyway.” Finn raises his hand to Sean, then offers a fist-bump to Daniel. “Be seein’ you, little man.”

“W-Wait! Your toys!” Daniel says.

“Aww, you can hang on’ta ‘em for me. Practice them super moves, ‘kay?”

“Yeah!” Daniel beams, but Esteban’s face remains inscrutable.

And just like that, Finn is out the door. The alien returns to his home planet, leaving Earth as mundane and ordinary as he found it.

Dad doesn’t talk about what he saw. Not right away, at least. The rest of the afternoon proceeds as usual, except that Daniel won’t shut up about Finn. How cool he was. How awesome. Daniel even takes a marker to his face, doodling triangles on his cheek.

“Looking good, _mijo_ ,” Dad says. He ruffles Daniel’s hair, but his voice lacks its usual warmth.

Sean tries to duck the inevitable conversation by hiding in his room. He puts in his earbuds and cranks the volume, so he won’t hear when Dad knocks.

Dad comes in anyway.

The sky is dark. Daniel, tucked in. Sean pretends to focus on the homework strewn across his desk, but Dad taps his shoulder. Sean pulls out his earbuds and swivels around.

“What up?” he asks neutrally.

Dad settles on the edge of Sean’s bed.

“So, was that… Spanish Girl?”

Sean _chokes_ . “What? _No_. It’s not like that. Spanish Girl…” Fuck, Sean still can’t say her name, “…is real. That was her… brother. The three of us hung out a lot, when I was helping her with Spanish.”

Dad exhales, relieved in a way that only makes Sean more tense. “Was?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘when I _was_ helping her with Spanish.’ So… no more Spanish Girl?”

Sean’s head drops. “She didn’t… stick. But Finn did. He’s cool, Dad.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dad sighs. “Older guy, seems tough and cool… I get why you’d want to hang out with him.”

No, you don’t get it. You really fucking don’t.

“But be careful, _mijo_ . Guys like that… Guys who hang around their old high school, never moving on… They don’t _go_ anywhere. They don’t make anything of their lives. And there’s so much you can do, Sean. So much you can _be_.”

Dad talks like he’s so wise. So all-knowing. Like he can see Finn’s whole life stretched out before him, but he doesn’t even know Finn. He doesn’t have the first _fucking_ clue.

“Maybe I _like_ that he’s not going anywhere,” Sean snaps. “Maybe I’m tired of people fucking bailing on me.”

“Sean…”

“No, I’m done.” Sean swivels back to his homework. “Gotta finish this before school.”

“Yeah, okay.” Esteban rises. Sean plugs in his earbuds. “I love you, _mijo_.”

Just like the knock, Sean pretends he didn’t hear it.

 

*

 

Thursday. Sean’s first day of freedom since Cassidy’s party. At lunch, Lyla tries to make afternoon plans with him, but Sean won’t commit to anything. Says he wants to keep his options open, even though he knows exactly where he’s going to be.

“Boo!” Lyla says, wearing an exaggerated frown. “I haven’t seen you in forever! You becoming too cool for me, Diaz?”

“ _Never_ ,” Sean says. “I’ve just… been busy. Sorry.”

“Well… come to Eric’s party, then! He’s been on me for days, saying you _have_ to be there. Everyone wants to see the Party Animal.”

Sean makes a face. “ _Party Animal_. Right. You’ve seen me at parties, Lyla. I just stand in the corner.”

Lyla pulls out her phone. Shows Sean a photo of himself drinking beer from the side of a can. “This guy isn’t just standing in the corner.”

“That was… different.”

“Yeah, well, figure out whatever you did to free the beast, ‘cause I’m not showing up to this party alone.”

Sean makes a sound that’s neither a _yes_ , nor a _no_.

He studies with Jenn Murphy during free period. She really does help him understand Pre-Calc. The way her bangs brush against Sean’s face when they’re reading the same page fills Sean with warm, delicious feelings. He wonders what Dad would say if he told him that there’s a Math Girl. Would he sigh with relief again, the way he did last night? Would he tell Sean to be _careful_?

Sean’s phone is out before the final bell finishes ringing.

_Hey!_ he says. Finn’s reply comes almost the second Sean hits send.

_What up gorgeous? <3 _

_I’m a free man! Officially!_

_Congrats! You comin over?_

_If I can get a ride_

_Already in the parking lot, sweetheart <3 _

For the first time, Sean sits in the passenger’s seat. Everything looks different from up here. Less crowed. More open. The world splayed out before him. The windshield, wide and welcoming. Finn drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other on Sean’s knee.

They listen to the radio. Laugh about dumb shit his friends said at school. Sean bitches about his math test, but doesn’t mention Jenn Murphy.

Walking through Finn’s door without Cassidy feels… more intimate, somehow. It’s the same place, with the same smelly couch and rough carpet, but now there’s a… a privacy to it, a sense of closeness that wasn’t here before. Now whatever happens, stays between Sean and Finn.

Finn, who has no ties to Sean’s high school. Finn, completely separate, divided from the rest of Sean’s world. Like a desert island. A secret base.

Finn casts about for something to do. Mentions the PlayBox. Or the CDs in Sean’s backpack.

“Will you… cut my hair?” Sean asks. Finn blinks.

“Whazzat, sweetie?”

“I want you to cut my hair.”

Finn cups Sean’s chin, turning his face from one side to the other.

“Yeah… alright. If you’re sure.”

Sean inhales deeply. “I’m sure.”

Finn sits on the couch. Sean settles on the floor between Finn’s legs, eyes closed. Finn’s fingers card through his hair, feeling out the texture, the length. He strokes gently, tenderly. Unhurried. Careful.

When the first of Sean’s hairs fall to the floor, so do his tears. It’s a silent, private cry. Sean doubts Finn will even notice.

He cries because it feels good. Finn’s hands, Finn’s strength, Finn’s certainty. He cries because Jenn is beautiful and desirable and it would be so easy to text her instead of Finn. He could kiss her, and enjoy it. Love it, even. _Want_ it.

But this, right here… this right here, feeds something deeper in Sean. Some softer need, far more desperate and delicate than desire. This fills him up like rain saturating the earth, letting the roots in him drink deep and push their budding flowers into the sunlight.

He cries because he’s in love with Finn—or something very similar to love. Sean doesn’t know. He’s never felt this way about anyone before, so safe and certain, special and adored.

He cries because tonight, Dad will see his haircut, and Dad will know where he’s been. And there’s no taking it back.

Finn’s arms wrap around Sean’s shoulders. A palm slides over his heart. Presses there. Steadies his heartbeat.

“’Sokay, baby,” Finn whispers, like he can feel everything Sean is feeling. He probably can. He always has. “Just let it go.”

Sean hiccups, sounding horribly, frustratingly childish. His tears fall even harder.

Finn doesn’t try to make him talk about it. He just whispers soft words against Sean’s ear, and holds Sean so tight that suddenly, Sean doesn’t need to _go_ anywhere, doesn’t need to _be_ anything except Sean. Just _Sean_ . No definition required, no labels, no roadmap. Those things don’t matter because right now, in Finn’s arms, _Sean_ is enough.

 

*

 

“Whoa!”

Finn shaved the sides of Sean’s head, leaving only a strip of hair in the middle. Daniel _loves_ it.

“Looks good, _mijo_ ,” is all Dad says. He uses the same tone that he used with Daniel yesterday, when he drew the triangles under his eyes.

“Finn did it for me,” Sean says proudly. Defiantly. Dad only nods.

“Can he do my hair?” Daniel asks. “Please, Dad? Please?”

“Ask me again in ten years.”

Daniel groans. That night, he grabs a blue marker and tries to color the tips of his hair.

 

*

 

Friday morning. Sean’s alarm goes off on his phone. He reaches to shut it off—then sends the text message he thought about all night.

_Hey Eric._

Another quick reply. Sean’s been getting a lot of those recently.

_You comin to my Halloween bash?!_

Before Sean can reply, Eric adds: _Lyla said you would!_

_Yeah, I’ll come._

_!!!_

_One condition._

_???_

_I get to bring someone._

 

_*_

 

Sean can smell something in the air. Like… electricity, slowly building before a storm. The skies are clear, but it’s Autumn in Seattle, and the rain will start any day now.

It feels like the world is leading to something. Lightning about the strike. A storm about to roll in.

 

*

 

Finn drives Sean and Lyla home after school. Lyla rides in the back seat, cramped beside two plastic milk crates. She’s still not over Sean’s hair.

“Skype me later!” she says, waving as she hurries to her front door. Her mom—the _Momster_ —watches Finn and Sean pull away with a sneer on her face. Sean used to care a lot what Lyla’s mom thought of him, but now she seems so small. Just a figure vanishing in the rear-view mirror.

Finn parks on the street just outside Sean’s house. Brett Foster is sitting on his porch, watching them pull the milk crates out of the back seat. He says something. Gives Sean the middle finger. An old, dark anger stirs in Sean, remembering the day Karen left, and how Brett just sat on his porch and watched as Sean cried.

Finn laughs, though (“Is this dude fuckin’ serious?”) and they walk into the house, forgetting all about Brett and his sneering lip.

Dad and Daniel are in the kitchen, bickering over the last Chock-O-Crisp. Daniel jumps at the sight of Finn. Starts begging for a haircut. Tries to drag Finn away to see the cool game he made with the kid’s meal toys.

“Dude, bug someone else,” Sean says. “We gotta get ready for our party.”

“Party?” Dad echoes.

“Yeah—Eric’s Halloween party, at his parent’s cabin. I told you about it.”

At least, he’s pretty sure he did.

Dad raises his hands. “Alright, don’t let this old fossil stop you. I got work to do in the garage—though not as much as I thought.” He tilts his head. “Someone’s been working on the car when I’m not looking. What do you think? A ghost, maybe?”

“Uh… yeah,” Finn shrugs, jostling the crate in his hands. “That was me.”

“It was good work!” Dad says. Shit, he’s really trying. “You work on cars?”

“Not, uh… not anymore.”

Finn isn’t looking at Esteban. Sean realizes that he did the same yesterday. He looks to the side instead, like a little kid getting picked last for teams. Is it because he was youngest of four? That feels right to Sean, but it still doesn’t explain how quiet Finn goes. How his head drops and his bangs fall across his brow.

“Alright…” Esteban nods. He steps back, and Finn seems to relax with the increased space. “Back to work. And no fighting,” he adds, pointing to Sean and Daniel.

Dad disappears into the garage; Daniel, into his bedroom, giggling about a _secret project_.

Finally, Sean shows Finn into his room. The door clicks shut behind them. Finn looks around, nodding.

“You skate?” he says, noticing the board on his wall. Sean shrugs.

“A little.”

“That’s fuckin’ hot.”

Sean flushes at that. He no longer wonders what Finn means when he says stuff like that.

They drop their boxes on the floor. Both are filled with Finn’s old clothes. Everyone is expecting the Party Animal tonight, and Sean intends to exceed their expectations.

He tries a couple looks to get it just right. He changes with his back to Finn—Finn stretches out on Sean’s bed and… Sean isn’t sure. Maybe Finn looks at the magazine in his hands. Or maybe he enjoys the show. Sean isn’t ready to find out which.

“Yes! That’s the one!” Finn cries. He tosses the magazine aside and jumps out of Sean’s bed. “You gotta see yourself, sweetheart!”

The reflection in the bathroom mirror is wild and unfamiliar. New haircut. Rings on his fingers. A skull on his shirt and a jacket layered overtop, graffitied and studded with silver. In a lot of ways, it feels like a Halloween costume, but it fits comfortably. Like he’s evolving. Taking on a new form, every bit as natural as the one that came before.

Looking at himself now, Sean sees a guy who belongs in Finn’s car. The guy he wanted to be, the day he saved Cassidy’s guitar pick.

Lyla definitely approves, her face shining on the other side of the Skype window. Sean turns in front of his laptop, giving her a full view.

“Dang! It’s official. You guys are way cooler than me. You sure you even want me in the same car as you?”

“Uh, ‘scuse me,” Finn says. “I’m the newcomer here. You guys sure you want _me_ in the Freakin’ Fighters Club?”

“Depends on how well tonight goes.” Lyla smirks at the camera.

“Sean! Sean!” Daniel bursts into the room, sporting a zombie mask and water bottle filled with red goo. “Look! I made zombie blood!”

Oh, fuck no. The last thing Sean needs is Daniel, pleading and whining until Lyla invites him to the party. He reaches for Daniel’s collar, ready to throw him out of the room—

Finn gets there first. He places a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and examines the bottle.

“Hells yes! This is _exactly_ what we need! You saved the night, little man!”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t bullshit you!” Finn says. He shakes the bottle and—holy _FUCK_ —sprays Sean.

“Dude! What the _actual fuck_!”

“Holy shit!” Lyla says, gaping on the laptop screen. “Sean! _Look_!”

Sean looks down at himself. His punk-rock outfit is now splattered with red—a cool, bright smear stains the skull on his shirt, while scarlet dots intermingle with silver studs. It looks metal as _fuck_ —and perfect for Halloween.

“Shit, I love this holiday,” Finn says, his eyes shining bright.

 

*

 

Eric’s parents’ cabin is in the middle of the woods. Isolated. Private—like Finn’s apartment.

Finn backs into the front yard with all the other cars. Sean steps out off the passenger’s door to uproarious cheers; a sound that doubles when Finn throws open his trunk. Holy shit, where did he score so much beer?!

The sun has long disappeared. A floodlamp nailed above the garage door fills the front yard with long shadows, making the crowd look even bigger than it is. Everyone has a dark twin, a black, featureless doppelganger dancing on the walls.

It’s a Halloween party, so a lot of people are in costume. Jenn Murphy is dressed like a cat, with her hair dyed a shade of purple-blue that makes Sean want to look at Finn. He’s resplendent, smiling wide, a hero to the masses, O Great Provider of Booze.

Finn moves through the crowd like a rockstar. Everyone circles him, laughs with him, pulled in by the weight of his gravity. He tells them stories from before their time, gossip about their teachers that none of the existing Seniors would know, and where to get the best weed and score cheap beer. Everyone’s enraptured, like he’s dispensing secret wisdom. Or cheat codes for a video game.

It makes Sean anxious at first, terrified that everyone will realize that Finn is the real Party Animal. Sean is just the guy who discovered him—a poser wearing Finn’s old clothes.

But Finn is by far the most interesting person in the room, and the guy he wants to talk to most is Sean. And that… means something. Not just to Sean, but everyone that looks at him. Even Lyla’s expression turns somewhat mystified, like she’s trying to find the spark in Sean that lights up Finn’s eyes.

There’s drinking. Shouting. Someone pukes in the bushes. Chairs are dragged out onto the lawn. Eric is King of the World, destined to go down in history as the best party host of the eleventh grade.

Inside, there’s music. Pulsing, pounding music, filling up the house like the heartbeat in Sean’s ribs, thrumming inside the walls. The living room has been cleared all of furniture; it’s now a dark dancefloor, illuminated only by frail traces of light trickling in from the kitchen.

Lyla is there. Thrashing, jumping. Sean joins her—Finn too—and suddenly Sean is back in the mosh pit of the Misty Mice concert, screaming his lungs out, lost in the music and flailing limbs.

For hours—at least, it feels like hours—there’s nothing but movement. The smell of sweat and the damp heat gathering on Sean neck and running down his back. The air is musky and oppressive and good. A hot, heavy haze of sound, seeping into his skin and filling his lungs.

The music becomes slower. Just as pounding, but more controlled. Deliberate. The wild thrashing smooths into something more fluid. A wave of bodies. A sea of writhing limbs.

Everyone raises their arms in the air, dancing more with their hips than anything else. Finn is right next to Sean—never left his side, not once—but Sean can barely see him, their features lost to the darkness. Sean’s arms form a loop around Finn’s neck and Finn’s hands settle on Sean’s hips, and they roll together, _grind_ together, panting and wanting and needing.

So many people around them are doing the same. They would never act this way in the daylight, but tonight doesn’t count because it’s Halloween and soon enough, they’ll be back in their normal clothes, living their normal lives.

Not Sean, though. In Finn’s clothes, in Finn’s arms, Sean is finally himself. The sunlight won’t drive this away.

Soon, they’re stumbling into woods, away from the noise and laughter and floodlights. There, in quiet seclusion, Finn presses Sean against the trunk of the tree and kisses him hard.

“God, baby…” he whispers, still kissing, lips moving, hands roaming. Sean moans against him, clutching Finn’s shirt, trembling despite himself. He’s so hard inside his jeans— _Finn’s_ old jeans—that he’s certain Finn can feel it.

“Wanted this… for so long…”

“ _Fuck_ …”

And Finn tugs him down, down into the earth, and Sean splays himself out on a bed leaves and it is so, _so_ much better than his bed at home, because Finn is here, _really_ here, really touching, and kissing and moaning and thrusting and _spilling_ …

And Sean wishes he could just plant himself here and become a tree, his roots tangled with Finn’s like loose and sweaty limbs, entwined forever in this moment.

 

*

 

Sean wakes up in his own bed. He can hear the repetitive tune of a Hawt Dog Man cartoon in the living room, and the distinct sounds of Daniel, pouring himself a bowl of cereal and spilling it everywhere.

A typical Saturday morning. Everything is the same.

But everything is different.

The world is new. Changed. Or Sean is. Someone, something, isn’t the same, because he’s never been this happy in his entire life.

Finn dropped him off last night. Well—early this morning, as the sky was beginning to lighten, but the sun hadn’t quite yet emerged. They actually walked to the door together—Finn snickering, Sean _shhh_ -ing. The lawn was damp under their shoes, making a soft squish with each footstep, and when they got to the door, Finn pressed Sean’s back flush against it and kissed him again, which was thrilling but terrifying.

Sean unlocked the door with trembling hands and waited until Finn pulled away before he stepped inside. No one was there to greet him; Dad and Daniel were still fast asleep.

Sean reaches for his phone. Sends a quick _Good morning_ to Finn, and relishes the string of hearts that comes a few minutes later.

Sean asks him… something. Some stupid question he didn’t really need an answer to, he just wanted an excuse to talk. He forgets about it soon enough though, because Daniel tries to creep into his room and scare him awake.

“Get outta here, you little shit!”

“Oooh! Sean’s hung over!”

“Dude, do you even know what ‘hung over’ _means_?”

Sean changes out of his red-splattered, dirt-covered clothes. He wants to wear something of Finn’s, but the milk crates went back in his car before they picked up Lyla, so Sean puts on his own. His reflection is disappointingly ordinary again, except for his haircut and the rings he refuses to take off.

It doesn’t occur to him to check his phone until the afternoon. No reply from Finn. Sean texts him again, and when he still hasn’t heard back by dinner, a sense of dread creeps up his spine.

Esteban opens the living room window, inhaling deep.

“Might rain, soon,” he says.

 

*

 

Sunday comes, still no word from Finn. Sean actually uses his phone to make a call; it rings and rings but Finn doesn’t answer.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

Monday is Halloween. Real Halloween—that is, with little kids running around, begging for candy. Sean goes to school and accepts his well-earned praise, all the cheers and good-natured punches from everyone he hasn’t seen since Eric’s party. Sean tries to enjoy it, tries to smile and be the guy he was then, the guy in the red-splattered t-shirt, but his smile feels like a mask, concealing nothing underneath.

Maybe it was just a costume, after all.

Sean goes straight home that afternoon. Daniel is there with Dad, already dressed for trick-or-treating. He begs Sean to come with them, but Sean refuses.

“Nah, I’m just… gonna stay here and… pass out candy.”

Daniel pouts, disappointed, and Sean can actually see the gears turning in Dad’s head, trying to decide if he should insist on “quality family time.” Sean must look pretty miserable though, because Dad actually takes his side for once.

“Come on, Danny boy. Someone needs to protect the base, right? If there’s no one here to pass out candy, they’ll egg our house!”

“Yeah, okay,” Daniel grumbles.

Sean spends his Monday night on the couch. He hands out candy when the doorbell rings, which isn’t very often. A lot of kids skip by their house—that’s what Dad gets for skimping on decorations.

The sun is just going down when Sean’s phone rings. Actually _rings_.

It’s Finn, calling him back.

Sean is suddenly lightheaded, dizzy with relief. He brings the phone to his ear.

“H-Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful…”

_Fuck_ , it’s good to hear Finn’s voice.

“Dude, you’ve… totally been ghosting me!” Sean tries to laugh, like it’s a joke. “I’m so pissed!”

“Yeah… Sorry ‘bout that…”

Finn hesitates. He sounds like he did that afternoon, cross-legged on the hood of his car. In Sean’s mind, he can see the cigarette in Finn’s hand, the smoke trailing from his lips. Sean grips his phone in tight fingers.

“I got… company,” Finn says. Sean heart _stops_.

“Shit—is Cassidy back?” He actually says her fucking name. That’s how serious he is.

Finn is quiet for a long time. He just sits there on the phone with Sean, dragging on his cigarette and letting it out.

And then… he speaks.

“It’s my dad.”

 

*

 

Sean finally gets the full story. Or, as full a story as Finn can ever give.

When Finn was a little kid, his dad stripped and sold stolen cars. He enlisted the help of his sons; even Finn, from as young as six years old. When they got busted, Finn’s dad traded his sons’ freedom for his own; their cumulative jailtime was still less than what he would have served. Seemed a fair call, from that perspective.

Finn spent two years in juvie. Foster care after that. His dad drifted in and out since then. Sometimes, his visits end well. Other times…

“He said he wants things to be diff’rent,” Finn says, voice trembling on the other end of the phone. “That he only got one son left, and he don’t wanna… waste it.”

Sean is on his feet, pacing the length of the living room. “Do you… believe him?”

A breath from Finn that almost sounds like a laugh. “No. But… I want to.”

Sean exhales. Shit. This is all feels so wrong to him, like stormclouds overhead, sparking from within. Finn should tell his dad to fuck off—just slam the door in his face. That’s what Sean would do, if Karen showed up on his doorstep.

Right?

“Just… be careful, okay?”

“Yeah. I will.” A pause. “Thanks, sweetie.”

It’s not until after Sean hangs up that he realizes— _Be careful_ is exactly what Dad said about Finn.

 

*

 

A week goes by. It becomes clear that Sean is the only thing in the world that’s changed. Everything—work, track, school, babysitting—is no more or less than it ever was, stagnant and stale.

Finn doesn’t text him back. Or, okay, he does, but his messages are rare and infuriatingly vague. Sean hasn’t been back to Finn’s couch since that slow, tear-soaked afternoon when Finn cut his hair.

Plastic pumpkins become paper turkeys. Daniel is already hyped for Thanksgiving. Sean watches October fade away, vanishing in the rear-view mirror.

And then a storm rolls in.

 

*

 

Sean usually sleeps well, during a storm. Especially the first rain of fall, after the long, dry months of Summer. The rhythmic drops and rumbling air stirs something primitive in him, letting him close his eyes and wake up renewed, his roots saturated, his leaves speckled with dew.

But tonight he just lays in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. Rain pelts his window. Wind howls down the street.

Sean checks his phone. It’s already two in the morning. He has school in five hours.

A knock at his window sends Sean scrambling out of bed. Finn is there, a flat palm pressed to the glass. His forehead, too.

“Shit…!”

Sean opens the window, flooding the room with wind and the wet, sweet scent of rain. Finn doesn’t hesitate to climb inside. His muddy boots step directly on Sean’s desk, then on Sean’s carpet. He’s drenched and shaking, and the moment Sean closes the window, Finn falls into him, hugging him— _clutching_ him.

He’s crying. Sean couldn’t tell, because of the rain, but he can now. The heave of Finn’s shoulders is unmistakable; so is the way he shudders and gasps for breath.

Fuck. Sean has never seen Finn cry, not even when Cassidy left. This is a scenario he’s entirely unequipped for, a fantasy that never once played out in this bedroom. Sean has no idea what to say or what do to, so he just holds Finn tight.

Finn is too cold. Or Sean, too hot. Finn’s clothes soak through the front of Sean’s sleeping shirt and his wet arms do the same around Sean’s back, and Sean is suddenly overcome with the image of a soaking stray dog, come to lie in the dry, warm wolf den.

“My fuckin’ dad…” Finn whispers.

Sean doesn’t reply. Just lets Finn say what he needs to say, when he’s ready to say it.

“We was drinkin’ an’… I dunno, he was talkin’ ‘bout this big score, easy money… An’ then I was in his car an’…”

Fuck.

Fucking _shit_.

“I’m so _fucked_ , Sean.”

Sean exhales. His lips brush against Finn’s. This gentle invitation becomes a delicate, hesitant kiss; Sean presses closer, harder, deepening the kiss, trying to tell Finn that everything is going to be okay.

But Finn breaks the kiss by letting his head drop. His brow falls to curve between Sean’s neck and shoulder.

“Don’t. Please.”

“Why?” Sean’s heart slams against his chest like rain against the window.

“’Cause I ain’t…” Finn shudders with another long, painful sob. “I ain’t worth stickin’ to.”

Sean’s reply is instant, and far too harsh. “ _Don’t say that_.”

“I’m _not_ , Sean.” Finn raises his head. His nose and cheeks are red, even in the darkness. “Shit, just lookit’chu. You can do anythin’. Not like me. I’m never goin’ anywhere.”

There’s a wetness on Sean’s face that has nothing to do with rain.

“ _Good_ ,” he says ruthlessly. “Because if you ever did, I’d never _fucking_ forgive you.”

Finn swallows. His lips tremble, half-opened; his lashes are dark and damp and beautiful. They flutter closed, as if slipping into a peaceful slumber.

Their next kiss is slow, and aching, and bittersweet. There’s a desperation behind it, the clinging need of two people not worth staying for, holding onto each other for dear life.

A soft knock on Sean’s door is all the warning they get before Esteban steps inside. Sean and Finn separate like the wrong ends of two magnets, flying apart in a clumsy, backwards motion. Finn actually stumbles into the wall, tripping, slouching. He looks like a wounded animal, cornered and frightened. He holds up a hand, blinking hard at Esteban, like he’s too big and too bright. A child looking at the sun.

Sean trembles in the middle of his room, feeling naked and exposed, his sleeping shirt soaked through and Finn’s kiss still tingling on his lips.

“Dad…” he whines. Actually _whines_ . Like Daniel. Like he’s eight years old and he doesn’t understand why Mom isn’t coming home. “Dad, _please_ …”

Esteban’s eyes slide to Finn, wet and muddy and red-faced. Finn still won’t look at Esteban, not even when Esteban crosses the room, approaching Finn with long strides.

He pulls Finn upright. Wraps him in a firm, steady hug.

“Come on,” Esteban says. He slaps a hand reassuringly on Finn’s back. “It’s never as bad as you think.”

 

*

 

While Finn showers, Sean sits on a wooden stool, his elbows resting on the kitchen counter. Esteban stands on the other side. Sean tells Esteban everything.

…okay, _mostly_ everything. He leaves out the parties. The dance. Finn’s living room floor, strewn with garbage; the forest floor, strewn with leaves.

But the relevant details, the difficult stuff, all comes pouring out. Finn’s shitty dad. His time in juvie. His brothers, still in jail. Cassidy—Spanish Girl—bailing on him. On _both_ of them. How hard that was on Sean—how much harder it was on Finn.

Sean tells his dad… how much those afternoons meant to him, hidden away with Finn and Cassidy. How good it felt to have one fucking thing in his life without responsibilities.

“I know… you need me to be an adult…” Sean says, hating how small he sounds, but hating his tears even more. “But it was nice… to be a kid for a while.”

Esteban is silent, passively absorbing it all. He smooths his palms across the counter. “So… that’s all it is? Blowing off steam?”

“No, it’s not…” Sean struggles to find the words. His leg jiggles against the bars of the wooden stool. “It’s not like… goofing around with Lyla. Or playing video games. Finn… helps me, Dad.”

Sean gestures to Daniel’s door. Behind it, Daniel’s room is still a fortress of blankets, the floor covered in plastic Aweso toys.

“Like when we were babysitting. Daniel didn’t get on my nerves, even _once_. That doesn’t happen when Lyla’s here. Finn, just… makes me feel like… everything is okay.”

Sean’s hands come together. He rubs one thumb against the other, hesitating. With a long, deep breath, he says, “He needs someone, Dad. And I think… I need him.”

Dad’s exhale is just as long and labored as Sean’s inhale. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

Sean nods. Then swallows. He can’t…

Dad reaches across the counter, covering Sean’s hands with his own. “It’s okay, _mijo_. You don’t have to say it.”

All the air, all the strength goes out of Sean. His head drops. “But I’m not… I don’t know what… what I…”

“That’s okay.” Esteban’s voice is warm and steady, his hands even more so. “You have time to figure it out. I love you, _mijo_. No matter who you are, I will always love you.”

Fresh tears stream down Sean’s cheeks. For the very first time since his mother left, Sean feels safe in this house. He is and will always be worth staying for.

Sean is still crying when Finn steps out of the bathroom; he wipes a hand across his face, trying in vain to hide it. Finn settles into the stool next to Sean, who’s pleased to see that his clothes look as natural on Finn as Finn’s clothes looked on him.

“Hey,” Esteban says. “Feeling better?”

Finn nods. He looks younger somehow, with blue bangs sticking to his forehead. “Yeah. Um… thanks.”

“Hungry?”

“Nah.” Finn rocks his shoulders. Stares at the letters on his knuckles. “Listen, I can bounce, if—”

“No.”

Esteban places a hand on Finn’s wrist. Finn goes so still that Sean no longer sees a stray hound, but a frightened rabbit, chest fluttering with the thrum of its heartbeat. But the Papa Wolf doesn’t snap him up; the Papa Wolf curls around him, shielding him from harm.

“You’re going to stay here for a while. _Comprendé_?”

Finally, Finn looks at Esteban. His mouth stretches, like he wants to smile and cry at the same time. “Y-Yeah? Would that be… cool?”

Sean grips his shoulder. “It would be _very_ cool.”

Finn’s mouth stretches again. He wants to say something, but before his lips can form the words, the sound of a creaking door draws his attention.

Daniel stands at the edge of the kitchen, wearing his blue Aweso pajamas.

“Is Finn okay?” he asks. Sean can’t help but laugh. It’s a short, breathless sound.

“I am now that you’re here,” Finn says, reaching for Daniel. The boy throws his arms around him, and Sean can tell that the hug means every bit as much to Finn as does to Daniel.

There’s nothing good on tv at three in the morning, so they put on a movie. All four them sit together on the couch, comfortably squashed. Daniel sits between Finn and Dad; Sean sits at Finn’s other side.

It’s not long before Daniel falls asleep, his whole body leaning heavily on Dad. Dad strokes his hair while he sleeps, and Finn’s hand settles on Sean’s knee.

It occurs to Sean that this is Finn’s couch now. Sean’s safe place, his island, is right here. His own home.

 

*

 

Sean embraces Senior year with a rush of energy, an excitement that didn’t exist ten months ago. His life feels richer, fuller, the ground saturated, ready for new seeds. He’s no longer scrabbling at the earth, trying to figure out the harvest before it comes—instead, he’s content to just tend the soil, and see what grows.

School is good. He passed Pre-Calc (barely) and being a Senior means no more math, so there’s more time for track, and maybe even an extra shift or two at Z-Mart. His boss is always super grateful, and the bonus cash is nice. Now when he and Lyla hang out at the movies, Sean can actually afford to buy the popcorn.

But there’s no work today, so Sean heads straight home after track practice. His phone buzzes.

_Hey sweetie. Workin late. Pick up a pizza? <3 _

_Sure_ . Sean replies. _Does Dad want jalapeños?_

_Lemme ask._ There’s a pause. _He says yes but they give him heartburn_

_So no then?_

_Remind me not to get old_

_Too late_

_OUCH. DAMN SWEETIE. STAB ME NEXT TIME IT LL HURT LESS_

Sean is still smiling when he pushes through the front door, a pizza box balanced under his arm. Daniel bursts from his room like a starved wolf, tearing into the pizza the moment Sean sets it on the counter.

“Dad! Finn!” Sean calls. “You better get up here quick, before Daniel eats it all!”

They emerge from the garage with oil-stained hands, still deep in conversation about whatever book they’re both reading. Sean tried to get in on their book club a couple of times, but he can’t really keep up with them. It’s kind of cool that they have their own thing, anyway.

Finn wipes his brow, leaving behind a streak of oil. It’s really cute. Sean kisses him, briefly—just a quick way to say _hello_ after a long day. Daniel makes a scandalized noise (he still thinks kissing _anyone_ is gross) but Dad grins as he washes his hands.

“Thanks for grabbing dinner, _mijo_ ,” he says. “We were really in the thick of it down there. Your car’s almost done!”

“Wicked,” Sean says, finally helping himself to a slice. He takes the stool next to Daniel. Finn takes the third.

“The first drive is important! Seals the bond between driver and car,” Dad teases. “Have you decided where you’ll go?”

Sean silent for a moment, with Daniel on his right side. Finn on his left. There’s no where else he’d rather be, honestly.

“Guess I’ll see where the road takes me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm still working on "If I Lay Here." That fic is DEFINITELY NOT ABANDONED. I just... really, really needed to let this one out. It was scratching at my head for a while, and once I started typing, it just poured out. I had a lot of fun playing with a Sean that is firmly set in his "Episode One" stage of development; he's definitely more jaded than the Sean from "If I Lay Here," but still a soft boy underneath. I also really enjoyed this version of Finn, with his blue hair and brotherly relationship with Cassidy.
> 
> Speaking of Finn's blue hair, I'll give one last shout-out to Bloodwrit, whose designs for Finn inspired Finn's look in this fanfic!  
> https://bloodwrit.tumblr.com/post/185193875840/some-alternate-hair-cuts-for-finn-that-i-did-with
> 
> Aaaand one last serious shout-out to sincerely-kleinman on tumblr, who said that if Esteban could actually meet Finn, he would look at Sean and say, “It’s okay if you like boys, hijo, but please not that boy.” Like... YES. I love it. I'm so intrigued by how Esteban and Finn would get along, how they'd both fit in Sean's life... I think they'd get really get along, eventually. Cars and pizza and book club!
> 
> Alright, lovebirds, that's it for me. This fanfic is extremely precious to me... I really hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
